The Lady in White
by TwilightLover96z
Summary: Edward has long since thought the existence of ghosts was purely a myth. On a dark, stormy Halloween night he'll be proven wrong.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! It's been awhile. This came to me when I was watching the first season of American Horror Story. Fair warning, I am a nut about that show! The house is very loosely based off the murder house, but I've taken some creative liberties. I've never written a ghost story before, but I'm a big fan of horror. Halloween may be two months away, but I hope you guys enjoy this!**

_Why am I doing this again? _To be honest, I don't really get the hype. Some families are Christmas freaks and mine….well for us, it's always been Halloween. We live and breathe for it. My parents still dress up every year, long after we stopped trick-r-treating. Starting around ninth grade, my brother and sister started another Cullen tradition: the annual Halloween bash. Though I would be the first to admit that we do have the perfect location this year. If nothing else, I suppose that does compensate me, albeit very little, for being uprooted and dragged halfway across the country, but I digress.

It's a brick three story art deco mansion built in the 20s by Charles Swan. Legend is that he sold the house after his daughter ran off the night before her wedding to Jacob Black. Never to be heard from again. _Luckily for us_, the realtor boasted, because in his grief Mr. Swan had left all of his daughter's wedding furniture in the attic. It bears mentioning that Charles Swan was a carpenter before he married a wealthy American heiress. Her heirlooms also came with the house.

Originally, the plan was to flip it, but the peacock-blue stained glass windows and the grand oak staircase sold Mom. Ever since then we've been carefully restoring it, starting with the inside. Her pet project has been to research the original design of the house and restore it as close to those specifications as she can. I imagine when it was built it might have been majestic, but decades have not been kind. Windows are broken from rambunctious dares of the locals' kids and the wrought iron fences have seen better days. I'm not even sure we need to decorate outside. It already looks like a haunted house. No. A fixer-upper, as my mother would say. Whatever. She's the house flipper, not me.

Moving to a new school in the middle of the semester is rough. Moving to a new school where the general consensus says your house is haunted is even worse. I should preface this by saying that I don't believe in ghosts. Never have, never will. However, the superstitious small minds at Westfield High seem to think so.

Many realtors claim houses have character, but few on the market have the unique history that our does. Jack Crandall apparently owned our house after Charles Swan sold it to him. Maybe that name doesn't hold any significance. It didn't to me either. His picture was as ordinary as his name. Average height, average weight with sandy hair and no distinguishing features. He was the type that could blend into a crowd and disappear. But then, isn't that just like real life? We expect some deviance or flaw to expose the rot within, but no, the scariest monsters that walk among us look perfectly normal. Wolves dressed as sheep.

Crandall today would be called an abstract expressionist good enough to make Kandinsky proud. His work both drew and repulsed the eye. His first painting, _The Madness Within_, was painted with varying shades of red on a white canvas. An appropriate homage to varying shades of anger from mild irritation to incandescent fury. What most people don't know is that Crandall painted the first few stroke of every painting with blood from victims. The _Madness Within _has more than most.

The papers called him the Vampire of Los Angeles. For each of his victims were discovered in ditches, drained entirely of blood. Seventeen women went missing over the six year period he lived there. There were more victims suspected, of course, but never proven. While he never gained the notoriety of Manson, some circles still worshiped him with cult-like devotion.

"You gonna stand there or help me?" Emmett grunted, lowering a gigantic Jack o'lantern to the porch steps.

"You seem more into it than me." I countered, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Bro, this is gonna be good for you. Once people see that all that superstitious stuff is a bunch of bull, they'll come around. Besides, you need to live a little. Most kids your age would love to throw a party when they're parents are out of town."

I scoffed. "Kid? Emmett, you're two years older than me."

"Quit being a party pooper and help me finish up here."

Reluctantly, I helped him set out more Jack o'lanterns on the porch. I laughed at one with a goofy smile and crossed eyes.

I held it up. "Were you conscripting mental patients to carve these?"

Emmett scowled. "It doesn't look that bad." _If you were blind, maybe. _

"Yes, it does." Alice called from the house.

"Who asked you, Alice?" Emmett hollered.

Alice stuck her head out of the doorway.

"A person with taste?" She answered innocently.

"Good one." I said.

She beamed. "Rose and I are done inside. All you have to do is put on your costume."

"I don't know." I glanced upward at the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in and thunder rumbled ominously. "It looks like we might get that storm after all. Who's going to come under a tornado warning?"

Alice put her hands on her hips. "First, there is no warning and second, the weather said it was just supposed to be a light rain. Quit stalling and put on your costume, mister. You're going to have guests arriving soon."

"Where is Jasper again?" I asked suspiciously. If anyone could reign in Alice, it was her boyfriend.

"He had to work this weekend." Alice complained.

"Well. You can tag along with Rosie and me, then." Emmett offered.

"Ok." Alice accepted. "Where are-?"

"Wait." I interrupted. "No one is staying?"

Emmett clapped me on the back. "It's your show, Bro."

"What are we talking about?" Rosalie was a comical sight. While Alice was pristine like she usually was, Rosalie had cobwebs in her hair and dirt smudged on her cheeks. A far cry from the supermodel my brother had raved about.

"Babe, are those real spider webs or fake?" Emmett asked, picking part of one out of her hair.

Rosalie's hands went to her hair and she turned a withering glare on Alice.

"Now I see why you wanted me to go into the attic." She muttered.

"If it makes you feel better you can take a quick shower at our dorm before we go out." Alice suggested.

Rosalie said nothing.

Alice sighed. "Fine, I'll pay for dinner tonight."

Rosalie brightened. "Deal. Are we all ready to go?"

"Yep." Emmett and Alice answered in unison.

"Wait." Alice linked arms with me and pulled me inside. "I want you to check out the house first."

As usual, Alice didn't disappoint. Some of the decorations were campy. Like the dining room. A long table was decked in a white frilly tablecloth and set for seven places with blood goblets. Sinister vampire bats were suspended from the ceiling. Garlic and crosses were bundled on an end table. Rosalie's suggestion, if I had to guess. It seemed too flashy for Alice.

Black lace curtains had been drawn to separate the parlor. This one was all Alice. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It was decorated for a séance. A Ouija board sat on a weathered table, coupled with a crystal ball and a deck of tarot cards. Menacing paintings of terrified women looking out hung from the walls. I studied the one furthest up but her face was obscured by the thick gouges of a knife.

"Where did you get all this stuff?" I murmured, flipping through the tarot cards.

"In the attic." Alice replied nonchalantly.

I paused and set the cards back down. "The attic? I thought Dad said it was closed off when we bought it."

Alice shrugged. "Dunno. It was open when I tried it and good thing. The stuff up there totally beats Party City, hands down. Everything in here came from the attic." So that explained why it felt creepier than the other room.

"Come on." She insisted. "I want to show you the last one."

I followed her to the home office. At first, Dad had considered expanding his psychiatry practice to include seeing select patients at home, but that idea was shut down quickly. It was the oddest thing. No matter how much we adjusted the heater; there were always cold spots in this room. Case in point, right now it was chilly, despite the rest of the house being toasty.

Animatronic witches with green skin and warts cackled from bookshelves, reaching forward with clawing hands. A bubbling cauldron dominated the black oak desk and wands were scattered haphazardly by it. Spider webs kissed the corners of the room. A large, realistic looking black rat was perched on the edge of the desk, a familiar waiting for his witch. As though his mistress would appear to give him orders any minute. It was the least scary of the decorations, but the chill made me anxious to leave.

"Looks good, Alice. Let's head back." She followed me back to the dining room where Rosalie and Emmett were setting out pretzels, pop and candy on the table.

"You remembered the food! Good." Alice exclaimed. "We hooked your IPod up to Em's old speakers so people can dance in here. I took the liberty of adding dance friendly music. I don't think people are gonna groove to Bach or Beethoven, Edward. I-"

"You said there was a costume?" I interrupted. Alice would talk all day about Taylor Swift if anyone would let her.

She nodded. "Up on your bed."

I climbed the stairs and paused at a muffled thud from the hall window. I peered through it, but nothing appeared amiss. Probably my imagination. When I entered my room, at first I thought that Alice had made a mistake. This was a suit. I hadn't exactly planned on going as a corporate drone. However, as I examined it closer it was much older than it appeared to be. It was definitely from another era. More Rhett Butler than Jordan Belfort.

As odd as it sounded, I did want to try it on. I stripped and pulled on the suit carefully, afraid that it might tear due to age. It didn't and fit me like a glove. If I slicked down my unruly hair, I could be a mirage from another time and place. I frowned. Wouldn't it look ridiculous if I was the only one wearing a suit? No doubt there were going to be plenty of zombies, vampires and werewolves, but what was my costume actually? Maybe it'd be a safer bet to put on some old clothes and splash some of that fake blood on my shirt. Presto! Instant zombie. No, that didn't seem right. Something in me whispered to leave it on. A strange buzzing outside broke my concentration, but when I opened the door nothing was there. Undecided, I thought to ask Alice.

I hastened downstairs to find her but she wasn't there. I checked the other rooms but they were equally empty. A quick glance out the window showed that their car was gone too. In the kitchen there was a note tacked on the fridge_. Edward, we tried knocking on your door, but there was no answer. Have a good time and enjoy the party! A._

I crumbled it up. Was that another joke of her? No one knocked. A loud crack of thunder distracted me and shook the house forcefully. Lightning illuminated the front yard and I could see the wind shaking the trees. The rain began with a gentle trickle and grew to torrential proportions. I flipped on the TV in the living room. A tornado watch was in effect. Just like I'd thought, so no one was coming.

After all, who wants to drive six miles in the rain to an unfamiliar house in a tornado warning? No one sane, that's for sure. Strangely disappointed, I rechecked that all the doors and windows were locked. I munched on pretzels before venturing into the séance room. The room felt bigger with just me in it. Since we were kids, it was rare for any of us to have the house to ourselves. The sensation was unusual for me.

I sat at the table and stared down at the Ouija board.

I chuckled. "You don't look so scary. Why are people so afraid of Ouija boards?"

On a lark, I moved the tarot cards and crystal ball aside to bring the Ouija board closer to me.

"Now how do I do this?" I muttered, placing my fingers on the planchette.

"I don't even know what to ask. Oh, am I alone?" Stillness for an entire minute. Just as I was getting bored, the planchette moved to the upper right.

"No." I read. "Oh, that's good. What did Alice do? Put batteries in this?" I picked up the planchette and looked under the board, but could find no evidence of any tampering.

"Whatever." I put the planchette back on the board. "If there is someone here, prove it."

The planchette began circling the board in figure eights while I watched transfixed. At one point I put my finger down on it, but it weaved around me.

"Gotta be magnets or something." I muttered again.

Abruptly, the figure eights stopped. A new motion began with frantic energy. It happened so quickly it took me a second to realize it was spelling the same thing over and over: NOT MAGNETS. NOT MADNETS. NOT MAGNETS.

"Who are you, then?"

MARY DRESNER.

A sharp spike of fear shot through me, but I quashed it down. There was no such thing as ghosts and there had to be a logical explanation for this. It could be a prank or-. Yes! That was it. Emmett and the girls had to playing a prank on me. Nothing more. I sighed in relief as the world made sense again.

"I'm not falling for this. I asked for proof, not a cheap parlor trick. If that's the best you can do, give up." I said harshly. The planchette stilled and a pricking sense of anger washed over me, hot and uncomfortable. The trouble was it didn't come from me. The lights died at the same times the windows flew open. I rushed to close them and fled the room. The whole house was dark, but I could hear the windows and doors slamming open and closed in every room of the house as I made my way to the kitchen. I cursed as I bumped into the table while looking for a flashlight. I clicked it on and shut the windows in the kitchen. Through the window, I could see the front door opening slowly and rushed to close it. I locked it, even though I was sure it had been locked.

I leaned against the door, breathing heavily. A loud knock reverberated through the wood, startling me. I looked through the peephole, but I could see nothing in the pitch black. Just a brief flash of white. I debated answering when the knock came again. I griped my flashlight tighter and opened the door before I thought better of it.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding. A girl around my age stared timidly back at me. She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen: pale almost translucent-looking skin, long brown hair cascading in curls down her back and chocolate brown eyes set in a heart shaped face. She was dressed from a bygone era, just like me. She wore a long, frothy, white wedding dress that covered from her neck all the way down to her ankles. On another woman, the dress might be too plain, but on her it looked beautiful. My eyes stopped at the blood soaking the dress from the midsection down to the floor. There were micro tears like someone had tried to hold her still and rip it. She cleared her throat and I realized that I'd been caught staring.

"Can I come in?" Her soft, lilting voice asked. God, even her voice was beautiful.

"Yes." I said eagerly, ushering her in inside.

"Sorry about the lights." I apologized. "The storm must have taken them out. I-"

She glanced at me and politely refused an extra flashlight that I'd tucked into my pocket.

"You sure?"

She nodded and the lights flickered back to life.

"What do you know? You're my lucky charm….I'm sorry I didn't get your name."

She smiled. "It's Isabella, but everyone calls me Bella."

"I haven't seen you before. At school, I mean." I blurted out and then cursed myself for it. God, could I be more of a spaz.

"Nor would you. I….don't go to that school." She finished eventually, her voice tinged with sadness.

I couldn't say why, but I wanted to take away Bella's pain.

"So you must have heard about the party from somewhere?" I asked, hoping to take her mind off whatever was making her sad.

"I live around here." She answered vaguely and I instinctively knew that she would say no more.

"Glad you could make it. But with the storm I don't know if anyone else will be able to."

"I don't mind if you don't." She said shyly.

I hated to ask it but…..

"I want you to stay, but I'd hate for you to get stuck here in the storm."

The light dimmed in her eyes and she laughed bitterly.

"Stuck because of a storm. Now, that's funny." She griped the banister of the stairs, her profile rigid. Although, as her dress slid along the floor in a whisper of satin and lace, it occurred to me that she was completely dry. Odd. Hadn't she just come from outside?

Bella turned back to me, her expression regretful. "Please accept my apologies. My anger was not directed at you and I appreciate that you are looking out me. I'd like to stay if you'd let me.

"I want you to stay Bella." I squeezed her hand, but it felt cold.

"Do you want me to turn the heat up?"

She shook her head. "Not for me, but if you're cold please do so."

"I'm fine. Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Would you…maybe want to listen to some music?"

She brightened considerably. "I would love that! It's been an age since I heard anything."

I led her to the living room, deciding she must have eccentric parents.

"Any favorites? I've got Arcade Fire, Muse, Nickelback and Nirvana."

Her brow wrinkled. "I've never heard of any of them. To be honest, none of those options sound terribly appealing, Edward."

When did I tell her my name? Maybe she's met Mom or Dad in town before.

"Well, I do have classical music." I admitted.

"Marvelous! Do you have anything by Debussy or Bach?"

Grinning, I shuffled through my IPod until I found what I was looking for. I pressed play and the soft melody of Clair De Lune filled the room.

"I love this song. I used to listen to this a long time ago. Once I...left I couldn't bear to hear it anymore, but I love it too much to stop." Bella said wistfully.

"You moved back here?" I asked conversationally.

"Dance with me, Edward?" Bella implored, changing the subject.

I took her hand and helped her to her feet. She laid her head on my chest while we gently swayed to the rhythm. Her hair smelled exactly like strawberries, I decided. Fitting; strawberries were my favorite fruit, after all. Bella sighed softly. I never wanted this song to end. What was this feeling that unfurled around Bella? She felt right in my arms, like no girl had before, least of all Tanya. She was the latest in a string of disastrous set-ups orchestrated by my sister that just would not end. A thought occurred to me.

"Did my sister send you here?" Clair De Lune finished and the room filled with silence.

"No. Play it again?" She whispered softly. Did she feel it too? I wasn't going to complain. I obliged by restarting it and cued up my other playlist of softer piano music that I used to relax. Minutes bled into hours. I was content to hold Bella and be held in return. When the last song played, her luminous brown eyes rose to meet mine.

I cupped her face in my hands and bent down towards her. Tentatively, I pressed my lips to hers. She gasped sharply and I pulled back to look at her.

"Don't stop." Bella begged, clutching my dress shirt in her hands.

I resumed kissing her and she melted into me. I groaned into her mouth and splayed my hands across her back. Her small hands tugged at my hair. I scooped her up and broke our kiss for a second to resettle her on top of me in one of the dining room chairs.

"Now where were we?" I kissed the hollow of her throat, making her breath hitch. I placed my hands on her hip, surprised when my hands felt sticky. I looked down and saw that her fake blood was soaking into my clothes and hands. Eh. I gave a mental shrug and turned my attention back to Bella. There was a weary light to her eyes that I didn't understand. I kissed her again, but she was hesitant this time. I bunched my fingers in her dress, balling it up and she went ram-rod still. Her hands closed over mine, stopping me. What worried me was the tremble in her hands.

"Bella?" I tried, but she wouldn't look at me. Damn it, I had pushed her too far. The first girl I had actually been interested in since I could remember. Could I still fix this? She got up and braced herself on the other side of the table. I could see the glisten of tears in her eyes.

"Bella?" I approached her cautiously, like a wounded animal. "Did I do something? I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"No." She choked out. "You did nothing wrong. You were wonderful. It's me that wrong."

"I don't understand." I confessed, watching her in confusion.

"I shouldn't have come." Bella said, breaking my heart with four words.

My heart turned to lead in my chest. Useless. Without Bella, what need did I have for a heart? How pathetic was that? One night and she'd ruined me for all other women. I slumped back into the chair and stared at her in despair.

"Edward, please forgive me."

"For what?"

"For not staying away from you. At first I kept my distance and observed you from afar. I thought that you were no different from any other man, but you are. You're kind, smart and compassionate. Any woman would be lucky to have you and I'm angry that it can't be me." Tears fell openly down her face.

"Kept your distance? Bella, we just met."

Her face was lined with guilt. "Edward, I've known you for three months."

"That's impossible." I sputtered. I've lived here for…."

"Three months." Bella finished.

"I would remember you." I told her.

She walked to my side and held out her hand with a silent question in her eyes. I accepted her hand and allowed her to guide me back to the parlor. I flinched at the Ouija board, but Bella didn't seem to notice. She nodded to the artwork on the wall. The terrified women frozen forever in a nightmare.

"These were from the attic." Bella explained quietly.

"How did you know?" I demanded.

"I was there when each of these were painted." She said matter-of-factly.

"You used to live here?" I guessed.

"Yes. I've lived here for a long time. Longer than you, your parents or even your grandparents have been alive. You see Edward, I was his first. Jack Crandall's first…painting, if you will." Her hands were balled into fists at her sides.

"Jack Crandall painted abstracts, though, not portraits."

"No. He sold abstract painting, but he kept trophies of us in the form of portraits."

"Why do they look so terrified?"

"Because they knew they were about to die. He painted all of us."

I gulped. "Which one is yours?"

She gestured to the ruined one. "Since I was his first, he wasn't happy with either painting of me."

"Wait. You're Isabella Swan. Your father built this house. Everyone thought you ran off."

She shook her head sadly. "No. I never left this house. I was trying on my wedding dress when he broke in. He was so quiet that I didn't hear him. I saw him in the mirror, but he covered my mouth. I couldn't scream. I couldn't do anything. He dragged me up to the attic and made me beg him to spare me. It wouldn't have made a difference, but I didn't know that at the time. I was young and I wanted to live. He gutted me, just like you would a fish! I bled to death in my wedding dress." She snarled.

The same one she was wearing now.

"Are you the only one living here?"

"No. There are several girls bricked up in the attic."

"Like Mary Dressner?" She was an angry spirit.

Bella regarded me with an annoyed look. "Didn't anyone tell you not to play with a Ouija by yourself?" She chastised me lightly.

"What difference did it make? You're a ghost and you showed up anyway."

"We showed up because you let all of us out of the board." She corrected. "Not all of us respect life. Some of other girls….well they want everyone to feel the hurt they went through. Like Mary."

"Where is she?"

"Don't worry. I sent her away. Since I've been dead longer than the others, I can do things they can't."

"Why did you need to send her away?"

"She was going to kill you. The suit that you're wearing? It was from a man she drowned in a bathtub. You should be careful, Edward. She'll hurt you if you give her the opportunity."

"Why?"

"She doesn't want to be alone anymore."

"What about the bathtub guy?"

"He moved on. Only an undiscovered death makes a ghost. His corpse was found by his wife immediately."

"Sounds reasonable."

"You seem to be taking this all rather well, Edward."

"I haven't decided if I've lost contact with reality or I'm dreaming. Either way, the problem is going to sort itself out."

"I doubt you're creative enough to think of something this macabre."

The light rays of dawn filtered in through the window. Bella sighed regretfully.

"What is it?"

"That's my cue to go." She said sadly. "Halloween is the only day of the year that ghosts can walk around mortals. The ancients knew that the veil between the worlds- the living and the dead, that is- are thinnest on Halloween." I could see she was right. Already the light was making her less tangible by the second. She was slipping through my fingers.

"Bella, don't leave me!" I cried, vainly reaching for her hand. It went through me. "Bella, what can I do to help?!"

Her answer was both weary and pained. "I love you for asking, but there's no hope for me. For where he's hidden me, I will never be found." She was growing so faint that I couldn't make out her features anymore.

"Bella. Come back next year. I'll wait for you." I promised to thin air. One way or another, I would give her the peace she sought. My heart could allow no other course of action.

It's a cliché, but it's true for a reason: your life can change in an instant. I know that mine had.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Guys! Can you believe Halloween is in a few weeks? Well, I can't. This chapter explains Bella's side of things and sets up for the big reveal in the next chapter. Happy reading.**

Los Angeles, CA

1921

"Do you have any idea how long I have been waiting to get you alone?" My husband asks, whisking me off my feet. I laugh when he reaches into his pocket, fumbling around for the hotel key.

I wrap my arms around his neck and shamelessly take advantage of his distraction by nibbling on his neck. His grip on me tightens and he stops what he's doing to stare at me. My breath hitches at the heated look in his eyes. Perhaps I shouldn't tease him. I want this as badly as he does.

His lips descend on mine for a wicked, decadent kiss that leaves me breathless. For the length of a heartbeat, he rests his forehead on mine.

"Darling, you are going to be the death of me." He says raggedly.

"Don't die now. This is just getting good." I joke.

He groans and renews his effort to open the door with increasingly clumsy fingers. He kicks open the door and slams it behind us with his foot. His eyes scan the room and light up at the bed. He deposits me squarely in the middle and looms over me. Gingerly, he removes my veil and casts it aside. I sit up on the side of the bed and turn, allowing him to unbutton the back of my dress. I feel his warm breath on my neck as he kisses a trail down the path of skin he's exposing. I arch my neck as he continues his sensual exploration. Soon, I hear the tell-tale rustle of clothes hitting the floor behind me and can't help but smile. _Had I ever been this desperate before?_ I stand and push my dress off down to join his pile of clothes on the floor.

I'm in my slip now. The way he's staring at me makes me feel beautiful, but more than that, I know he loves me. I can see it in his eyes and feel it in his touch. He is mine and I am his. His eyes hold a promise that I fully intend to explore for the rest of my life. I draw the slip over my head and toss it behind me without a care.

I feel a flutter of nerves, but they disappear when he pulls me down to him and resettles himself on top of me.

"I love you, Bella."

I twine my hands in his bronze colored hair. "I love you too, Edward."

There's a knock at the door and we both freeze. Frustrated, I run my hands down his back and hope he takes the hint.

"Ignore it." I suggest.

He sighs and the knocking continues. I blink and abruptly the scene dissolves. I am not in my wedding night hotel suite with my husband. I'm in bed at my father's house. My brow furrows when I replay the dream in my mind. _Edward. I don't know any Edwards._ Surely I would remember such a man if he existed. A bolt of shame ran through me. An engaged woman didn't dream about another man the day before her wedding.

I tried to banish the lingering thoughts of my mystery man by focusing on Jacob. He was kind, charming and considerate. We had known each other since childhood and I had genuinely grown to care for him over the years. We were perfectly suited in every way but one. While Jacob fit the bill of tall, dark and handsome, I did not feel a spark with him like I had hoped for. To be fair, Jacob had only kissed me twice. However, both experience left me unaffected.

While Jacob seemed pleased I wondered if perhaps I was incapable of feeling anything. Surely, not all marriages relied on an instant connection. Affection could develop with time, couldn't it? Still, I traced my lips absently, remembering Edward. He obliterated my self-proposed cold-fish theory. Impulsively, I replaced my mental image of the groom with Edward. My heart skipped a beat a split second before guilt settled in again. _Stop_, I told myself harshly._ Jacob is a good man and I'm lucky to have him. _ My family already loves him and I…I will eventually, I'm sure of it.

From the time I was a child, I dreamed of having the kind of marriage my parents had. One filled with love and mutual respect. My father always valued my mother's opinion, even if he didn't always agree with it. Privately, I wondered if my mother had intentionally selected a man that was the opposite of my rigid, serious grandfather. Traditions deeply mattered to Richard Hayden. I suspected that part of the reason he and my grandmother pushed so hard for Jacob and I to marry was to make up for my mother's perceived slight in marrying a man beneath her social class.

"Are you up, Miss Bella?" Lucy, the newest maid called out. "Mrs. Black and Miss. Montague are downstairs."

"Please tell them I'll be down momentarily." I called back.

How could I have forgotten? Today was the final fitting for my dress. I threw back the bed spread and hurried to the mirror. My hair did not look to out of place thankfully. I splashed cold water on my face and went about dressing in a hurry. Once I was sufficiently presentable, I rushed downstairs as fast as polite society allowed to greet my future mother and sister-in-law. I slid open the parlor door and took a seat on the couch opposite Mrs. Black and Leah.

"Good morning, Mrs. Black, Leah. I apologize for being tardy. I'm afraid I overslept." I explained contritely. No matter how many times I saw her, I was always struck with how much Jacob favored his mother. They both had the same inky, dark hair and Romanesque bone structure that turned heads no matter where they went. It was a comfort to see Jacob's easy smile in his mother's face. I could relax with the knowledge that I was gaining a wonderful mother-in-law with Susannah Black.

Mrs. Black reached over to my give my hand a quick squeeze. "Not to worry, dear. I remember how nervous I was before my own wedding. Think nothing of it. Besides, soon you and I will have to help Leah with her own wedding plans."

"Of course. Anything I can do to help." I promised.

Leah's polite smile slipped for a moment at Mrs. Black's heartfelt words. She stalled by pouring herself a cup of coffee with exceptional care. She regarded me with a frosty expression over the top of her mug.

"Of course I would enjoy your input Mrs. Black." Leah said pointedly ignoring me.

_Just not yours_, I finished for her. For almost a year now, I had tried my best to make friends with Leah. She was new to Los Angeles and marrying Jacob's younger brother, after all. The boys were thick as thieves and I had no doubt we would be seeing each other very frequently in the future. Still, Leah had resisted every olive branch of friendship that I had offered. In fact, she seemed to loathe my presence whenever we appeared together at functions. I supposed I wouldn't gain a sister in her. I understood from Jacob that the Montagues and the Blacks had always been very close in the past. Sometimes, I wondered if Leah resented my place in Jacob's life. As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Leah's lips flattened into a tight line.

"Shall we go?" I suggested.

"Yes. We're both anxious to see your dress. Your aunt has been raving about it for ages and frankly I feel left out." Mrs. Black stood and winked at me.

She linked our arms, leading me outside to the Rolls Royce.

"Morning, Miss." The driver tipped his hat at me and opened the backseat door for us.

"Hello, Thomas." I said, climbing in beside Mrs. Black.

It didn't escape my notice that Leah chose to sit as far away from me as possible. I folded my hands in my lap and resolved myself to give Leah as wide a berth as possible. Mrs. Black was content to fill the silence with updates on wedding plans. I listened and nodded when appropriate. Since accepting Jacob's proposal, I had been informed from multiple sources that our wedding was being called the highlight of the season. There was even talk of the governor attending. For a girl like Leah who loved the spotlight such attention was a dream. For me, it was enough to make me slightly queasy.

"Bella, are you all right?" Mrs. Black studied me with evident concern.

"I'm fine." I reassured her. "You were saying about the gardenias?"

"They look lovely!" She gushed. "Everything is ready for tomorrow. Bella, I can't tell you how happy I am for you and Jacob. I-oh, here we are!"

Thomas pulled up to the dress shop and jumped out to open the door for us again.

A chilly autumn breeze sent my teeth chattering and I wrapped my coat tighter around myself. A flash of movement across the street caught my eye and I found myself locking eyes with a stranger. A shiver went through me that had nothing to do with the cold. I could not explain it. He was average in appearance, innocently reading a newspaper by himself. However, the look in his eye was far from ordinary. There was such blatant animosity in his gaze that I flinched. I didn't recognize him, though, so I couldn't understand the cause of his anger.

I followed everyone inside, glad for the excuse to leave and shake off the discomfort. I convinced myself that I had imagined it all. More likely, he was upset for a reason that had nothing to do with me. Once inside the dress shop owner heralded Mrs. Black and Leah to the waiting area and motioned for the seamstress to take me back to the fitting room.

She led me to a brightly lit room strewn with a myriad of other creations in progress. I spotted mine immediately hanging on a mannequin.

"It looks beautiful." I told her honestly, fingering the French lace at the collar. While I had given Mrs. Black free reign on everything else, I had insisted on choosing my own dress.

"Thank you." The seamstress beamed. "I think it's my best work yet."

With deft fingers she unbuttoned the back and waited for me to strip out of my clothes before handing it to me. It slid over my skin and fit like a glove. The seamstress fastened the back for me and reached into the cupboard above us. A long, white veil spilled out.

I watched her in the mirror expertly pin the veil to my hair and fluff it out behind me.

"Do you want to show everyone?"

I nodded, gathering my skirts. For a moment I didn't recognize my reflection. She looked so elegant and put together. A girl like that certainly never had doubts about her wedding. I flipped the veil over, effectively obscuring my face.

I was met with silence when I rejoined my wedding party. Mrs. Black's expression was unreadable as she took in my dress. The owner tittered uncomfortably, glancing between me and Mrs. Black with worry. One bad word from Mrs. Black would send every socialite to her competitors uptown. Although, as it turned out, her concern proved to be unwarranted. Mrs. Black broke into a grin.

"I love it and most of all; Jacob is going to love it too! You are going to make a beautiful bride." She nudged Leah. "What do you think, Leah? Doesn't Bella look beautiful?"

Leah's eyes flickered over my dress with distaste.

"It certainly suits her personality well." Leah responded.

"I don't think it needs any adjustments either." Mrs. Black continued looking it over. "I think you can take it home tonight….."

And so I did. Right now, it hung from the hook on the back of my bedroom room. I sat on my bed and reached for the brush on my night table. I was conflicted for I was too wide awake to sleep and not calm enough to read. I glanced at my dress again and bit my lip. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to try it on again. I shucked my nightgown and did just that. Since I couldn't button it myself, I held the back closed. I was sure Mrs. Black was right. Jacob would love it.

The loud creak of footsteps on the stairs momentarily puzzled me. How had my father managed to come home early? He'd regretfully informed me that business would keep him away until tomorrow morning with no exceptions. I listened as the steps ceased just outside my room.

"Father?" I tentatively called out.

No answer. Unease prickled across my skin. I crossed the threshold to lock the door when the knob began to turn. A man emerged from the darkness.

"You!" I whispered, taking a step back.

The man from across the street leered at me. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not your father."

Dimly, I registered the hunting knife in his grip.

I swallowed thickly. "My jewelry box is on the dresser. There's a sapphire necklace inside. Here." I slid off my diamond engagement ring and offered it to him.

"Take it." I pleaded.

His expression did not waver a bit.

My shin quivered. "Take whatever you want and go."

"Oh, my dear Miss Swan. I'm not here to steal. I'm here for you."

With absolute clarity I realized that I would never live to see another day.


End file.
